


all the nights spent off our faces (what the fuck are perfect places?)

by askmeaboutmyoctopustheory



Series: clintucky fried chicken [12]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bed & Breakfast, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Falling In Love, Fanboy Phil Coulson, Farmer Bucky Barnes, First Kiss, Home Improvement, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pansexual Clint Barton, Pet Names, Slow Burn, gay and fluffy, mutual idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-17 00:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20611595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/askmeaboutmyoctopustheory/pseuds/askmeaboutmyoctopustheory
Summary: Clint buys a house to fix up, Bucky shows upakathe Barnes-Barton b&b gay american dream





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ok this was supposed to be a oneshot and it's gonna be longer
> 
> *laughs nervously* wips what wips
> 
> find me on twitter @_AMAMOT

Clint was ready for retirement, whatever that meant for superheros these days. He had thought he had retired after Ultron, but when Cap comes calling for help… you can’t say no to Captain America ok?

But he was tired. He was getting too old for this and the nightmare fuel kept coming the more battles he fought. When the negotiations came for his release, he decided to call in a few favors and pull a few strings and bought an old victorian mansion in Vermont. Was it a whim? Yeah. Would it keep him busy? That was the goal. 

And it did. He had to tear up most of the flooring and mildewed flooring and rusted pipes. Clint had never been so glad for his life as a runaway and a circus kid for giving him a weird variety of skills that were finally coming in handy. SHIELD and the Avengers Initiative™ had left him with quite a bit in his bank account so he went about fixing up the place with the finest of materials.    
  
Natasha and the others kept in contact through burner phones and back channels but nobody prepared Clint ending a rainy day of putting buckets under the leaks in the roof with The Winter Soldier standing at his doorstep. Bucky looked like a sad dog that was seeking refuge from the storm and Clint had always had a soft spot for reformed assassins. They pitched a tent in the living room of the half-renovated house to escape the rain and ordered a pizza.

“So.” Clint began after they had eaten a bit. “You stayin’ here for a bit?”

“If that’s alright with you?” Bucky said softly. 

Clint was continually struck with how quiet and soft Bucky was. Their limited interactions at the airport and after escaping the Raft were incongruous with the man who had killed so many people and been through so much.

“Of course it is.” Clint grinned a bit and gestured to Bucky’s new vibranium arm. “I won’t have to sledgehammer anything with you around.”

Was that insensitive? Bucky just looked at Clint with a curious expression for a beat before chuckling a bit.    
  
“No, I suppose you won’t.” Bucky sipped on the soda that they had gotten with their pizza. “What’s the end goal here? You gonna live in this big house all alone?”   
  


Clint scratched his neck a bit sheepishly. “I uh. It’s cliche as shit but I thought I’d fulfill the gay American dream of owning a roadside bed and breakfast.”   
  
Bucky’s cocked his head a bit and Clint’s stomach twisted uncomfortably when he rememberd that Bucky wasn’t exactly from a very queer-friendly time period.

“Huh. Back in the day the dream was just livin’ with your fella and not going to jail. Glad that’s changed.” Bucky said thoughtfully. “You uh…” He suddenly looked nervous. “You’re queer?”

“Pan.”

“What?”   
  
Clint sighed, not really wanting to get into this right now. “Yeah, I am.”

He took his aids out, signaling the end of their evening and gathered a lump of blankets to rest his head on. He was vaguely aware of Bucky moving around and getting ready for sleep in his own way before flicking the electric lantern off. 

Somehow during the night they shifted closer to each other, probably both haunted enough to seek comfort in the midst of howling winds through the old house. Clint woke up to find his arm slung over Bucky’s broad torso and Bucky curled up like a much smaller man against him. 

Clint carefully removed his arm and put his aids back in to hear Bucky’s soft snores. He smiled softly for no reason in his sleep, making Clint’s gut twist a bit. He pushed any sappy feelings about the Winter Soldier finding peace aside and took his meager bathroom supplies to the one working sink to brush his teeth and scrounged together some cereal and bowls and took them back to the tent. 

Bucky was sitting up and stretching when Clint walked in. “Mornin. Sun’s out now. We gotta fix up the roof today in case the rain comes back. The sink in the kitchen is the only one that works if you wanna wash up. I gotta gym membership for showers but we can expedite finishing one of the bathrooms.”   
  
Bucky just nodded silently and took a bowl of cereal from Clint. “Mind if I uh. Work on somethin’ ground level? Don’t like heights.”   
  
Clint blinked but recovered in a beat. The Winter Soldier, the man who had set the Army sniping record, was scared of heights. Who knew. 

“Uh yeah! There are plenty of projects to go around, take your pick.”

They cleaned up breakfast and looked at the vague outline of tasks to be done. Bucky agreed that they needed to finish a bathroom sooner rather than later and asked Clint for his tool box. Clint sorted through the roofing tiles at the hardware store until he found ones that matched the house and bought another toolkit since there were twice as many hands now. When he got back to the house Bucky was in the main floor’s bathroom with his upper body under the original clawfoot tub.

“Uh. I’m goin’ up to the roof now. Holler if you need me.” Clint said to Bucky’s feet. He got a thumbs up from underneath the tub in response. 

Once he was up on the roof, Clint allowed himself to get into a familiar mindset that he would find while waiting out a mark. It felt good being high up and able to see all around him; along with the work that made him hot and sweaty and felt like he was  _ doing something _ with his life. 

➵✪

Bucky could hear Clint clomping around on the roof fixing the holes that had made themselves apparent in the storm. He couldn’t get a read on Barton, and that was supposed to make him uncomfortable. But also he wasn’t supposed to be getting a read on people anymore, especially not people who didn’t really question you when you showed up on their porch with no preamble.

This was supposed to be Clint’s retirement plan, but he didn’t seem to mind Bucky being around. At least they had had pleasant enough conversation the night before. He idly reattached the U-bend under the bathtub and hefted himself out from under the tub. Bucky turned the knob and watched as the faucet sputtered awake and rusty water spilled out for a few moments before running clean. He smiled to himself, feeling the rush of accomplishing a task. He took a picture of the running water and sent it to Steve’s burner phone, just to show him that he was doing something.

Bucky was unpackaging the new showerhead with way too many settings when his stomach growled at him and he realized that it was past lunchtime. Barton was still up on the roof so Bucky went outside to the yard and squinted upwards into the sunlight.

“Clint?” He called hesitantly, still blinking into the sun.

“Oh hey Buck!” Clint’s body was backlit against the sun on the highest level of the roof. “What’s up? How’s the bathroom comin’?”

“It’s comin’. We have a functional bathtub at least.” Bucky ignored how he felt a little happy tug in his gut when he said ‘we’. “You wanna do somethin’ for lunch?”   
  
He was then distracted by Clint climbing down from the roof on a ladder propped up against the house. Clint had at some point during the morning taken his shirt off and had his flannel tied around his bare waist. He was glowing a little with sweat and his biceps were sinfully bulging as he worked down the ladder. How had Bucky not noticed this before? His cheeks heated up a bit when he remembered how Clint’s body had left a warmth in the tent that morning from holding him so closely. 

“I might have some stuff for sandwiches inside in the mini-fridge.” Clint said, walking up to Bucky. He untied the flannel from his waist and wiped the sweat off his brow with it, bringing the line of his hipbones into view above his jeans. “Or we can go into town and get somethin if you don’t want sandwiches. We should get groceries anyway.”

Bucky tore his eyes off Clint’s abs and forced his brain to make a sentence. “Uh. Sandwiches are fine.”

“Sounds good.” Clint grinned and walked inside.

Bucky felt like his brain was rebooting. He was well aware that he had always been attracted to men, but never really had the option to pursue anything seriously before the war. HYDRA hadn’t really let him think about things like sex and romance, so he was feeling attraction for the first time in about 70 years. And wasn’t that something.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> very little home renovation and very much pining and gay panic and some self deprication

They kept plugging along at the seemingly endless list of tasks to complete before the house was livable. There was flooring that was rotted and the entire electrical had been a half-assed job by the previous owner. So it really wasn’t any surprise when Bucky punched through a wall with his metal fist and found it covered in white fluff.

“It’s what now?”

Clint sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand. “It’s asbestos. For whatever reason they used it with insulation after well…. After World War 2.” 

“Well should I get rid of it?”   
  
“No! We gotta call a specialist or something. It can cause all sortsa lung problems.”   
  
Bucky just kinda looked at Clint with amusement. “I can’t get any lung problems.”   
  
“Ok but city codes won’t accept ‘super soldier punched at it because he can’t get mesothelioma’ as a good enough removal method.” 

Which is how Bucky found himself in Clint’s beat up old truck with the windows down on their way to a beach up north. 

“There’s a museum or somethin’ up there if you get bored of the sun and sand. Revolutionary War hero lived there too.”

“I remember that one.” Bucky said sarcastically. He felt a swell of… something when he got a chuckle out of Clint. “So I was online-”   
  
“Oh god. What did you find now?” Clint grinned nonetheless.

Bucky hadn’t been nearly as hopeless as Steve was when first defrosted. He had been out of ice periodically enough to be caught up with some current trends and technology. But he was still figuring out a lot of things about the modern world.

“It’s about the house.” Bucky said solemnly. “We’ve gotta paint it soon. Especially if you wanna make a B&B.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Well. I found a lot of B&B’s have themes. Or like themed rooms. There’s one I saw that’s all themed after different birds.”   
  
Clint barked a laugh. “That’s corny as shit. I love it.”

“We can maybe think of stuff for themes?” Bucky worried his lower lip with his teeth, a habit Clint had noticed and found way hotter than he should.

“Yeah. For sure.”   
  
Bucky looked way too excited for what would essentially just be more home renovation, but then again they had taken to streaming HGTV on Clint’s laptop in their tent late at night, stealing the closest neighbor’s wifi since they still hadn’t set their own up. 

They volleyed suggestions back and forth as they sat on the beach, people watching and occasionally wading into the water to cool off when the sun got too hot. Bucky was close to spontaneous combustion but it had little to do with the heat and more to do with the sinful swimsuit that dared to be called shorts on Clint’s body. Ever since his gay-reawakening that first day he had been very careful to not let his gazes linger as to not make Clint think he was being creepy.

That was another thing Bucky had enjoyed about the internet. He had looked up gay terminology and been accosted with all sorts of words and flags and spectrums to learn about. He didn’t really get it all but if it helped folks figure themselves out, he didn’t see any harm in it. Bucky also learned the word that Clint had used to describe himself that first night ‘pan’ was just short for pansexual which had just led Bucky down a dangerous path of hoping he had a chance. But Clint hadn’t mentioned anything after that first night.

“We could always just make it Avengers themed.” Clint said in a joking manner out of the blue, no doubt referring to the B&B. “Each room after a different one of us.”

“Oh that could work nicely.” Bucky mused. “Like a nice tasteful Nordic theme for Thor and-”   
  
“Oh I was thinking like full cheesy merchandise level, not tasteful at all.” Clint laughed. “Like make Steve’s room play that song they sang for him on the USO tour whenever you open the door.”   
  
“I will pay any amount of money to not ever have to hear that song again”

“I’m sure we can figure it out.” Clint said hoisting himself off the sand. “We’ve still got time before we gotta paint. I’m gonna be in the water if you need me.”

➵✪

_ Bucky sighed as he felt the slightly chapped lips on his own. It felt right, having strong hands on his waist and exploring up his shirt. He traced the line of the defined abs underneath his own hands, crying out softly at how turned on they made him. He could just- _

“Buck. Bucky you ok?” Clint shook him awake with a worried expression. “You were breathing real heavy and it sounded like you were crying.”   
  
“Uh yeah. ‘Nother nightmare.” Bucky mumbled out, not revealing that it was the very opposite about most likely the man in front of him. It wouldn’t be the first time they had shaken each other up from nightmares. “Sorry for wakin’ ya.”   
  
“I was awake anyway.” Clint replied softly. Their electric lantern was lighting up the tent that they still were staying in. “You wanna talk about it?”

_ Yes _ Bucky’s brain said, but he shook his head. He didn’t want to ruin whatever tenuous thing this was between them. They were rapidly approaching the point where they would move out of their tent and most likely into rooms. Would they share one? It seemed bad for business to take up two rooms when they were supposed to be providing a place for others to stay. Bucky couldn’t deny that he was attracted to Clint and didn’t want Clint to kick him out or anything.

Bucky felt his heart twist and he wanted to cry for no reason. He suddenly felt very lonely and wordlessly got up to go get a drink of water from their barely-functional kitchen sink. His favorite mug was a cheesy souvenir from their trip to the lake with ‘James’ written on it. Even looking at it made him a bit upset. 

Clint had wormed his way into his life and his heart, without even trying to. He was the one who had showed up unbidden on the doorstep, yet here he was the one pining over his first friend this century that he hadn’t ever tried to kill.

Bucky made his way back into the tent, still clutching his mug close to his chest and sipping the water from it. Clint was still awake when Bucky settled down onto the mess of blankets and pillows and mats they had made a makeshift bed out of. Bucky laid himself down and curled up facing away from Clint and honestly his heart ached even more when he felt a soothing stroke up and down his back. Clint’s warmth soon slipped down to lay behind him and the strong arms came around his waist and that’s when Bucky realized that Clint couldn’t steal his heart, because he already had it in his grasp.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> me: don't write more feels  
me @ me: what the fuck

Clint didn’t know what had happened to make Bucky uncomfortable and withdrawn. It wasn’t a big deal to have nightmares, all of the Avengers had them for one thing or another. And mental health and veterans care was sure as hell way better than it was in the 40’s. But Bucky seemed to be falling into a spiral, not even fighting with Clint on his ever-more ridiculous design suggestions. One evening Clint came home with their usual take out to find Bucky looking horrified at himself in the bathroom mirror, shreds of his hair in the sink and kitchen shears in his hand.

“I just-” He whirled around with wild eyes when he saw Clint next to him in the reflection. “I kept seeing… the soldier.”   
  
“Hey.” Clint coaxed the shears from the metal fingers. “It’s all good. Lemme clean it up? I’ve got clippers somewhere. I would cut Barney’s hair in the circus.”

Clint managed to shape Bucky’s hacked up hair to something along the lines of what he remembered ( _ very well, thank you very much) _ from history books and documentaries. Bucky ruffled it with his hands and caused Clint’s stomach to flip flop with the little smirk he gave himself in the mirror. That was full Bucky Barnes smolder that had broken hearts for nearly a century.   
  


Clint kept trying to do small things to cheer Bucky up. He tried playing old swing music and dancing horribly, swinging Bucky with him to the best of his ability. He tried going to all the weird tourist traps and roadside attractions in their general vicinity and letting Bucky pick out a mug at every place. These would get him small smiles that never quite reached Bucky’s eyes and it made Clint’s heart hurt. He wanted to make Bucky happy, in a way he had never wanted to make someone happy before. He was also very aware that he was developing more than just a crush on Bucky, but he sure as hell wasn’t pushing that.

The first time he had seen Bucky truly light up with glee in a while was when there was a small tub outside the hardware store during one of their (way too) frequent excursions there. The tub was peeping and there were heat lamps and upon further inspection, there were tiny chicks inside. Bucky was cooing and letting them hop onto his fingers.

“Can we get some?” His eyes lit up and he looked so excited.   
  
“Sure, once we figure out the yard. We can have fresh eggs for the ‘breakfast’ part of a b&b.” Clint was a weak man in the face of that , and honestly he was down for chickens. “The whole place is zoned for farming so we can get goats or somethin small like that too.”

“Goats!?” Bucky looked beside himself with joy

“Yeah Buck. Anything you want.” Clint gently steered him away from the tub of baby chickens.

They gathered the supplies they needed to re-do the hanging rods in all the closet and went back to the property, Bucky casting one last glance at the chickens when they left. Clint sighed and added a chicken coop to the list of things they’d need to make. Bucky had been there almost two months and they had done much of the renovation way faster than Clint could’ve ever hoped to. No doubt there would be proper beds and furniture in the house.

“What do ya wanna call the place?” Clint asked, breaking the silence.

“What? The house?”   
  
“Well, like, the business. The bed and breakfast. What should we call it?” 

Bucky just hummed in thought. “We can figure that out later.”    
  
“We’re running out of ‘later’ to figure everything out here, Buck.” Clint laughed. 

Bucky’s face fell again, returning to the stoic mask that had been so common recently. He furrowed his brow and pouted his lips a bit. Clint watched him out of the corner of his eyes, battling in his mind whether or not to say something. And let the record show that Clint Barton has never had great impulse control.

“Hey… You ok?” Clint swallowed a bit. “You know you can like… ask for help? There are resources and shit for people like- Fuck. Are you doing ok?”

Bucky looked bewildered, like he didn’t realize that Clint would worry about him. “Yeah? I’m ok. Just ya know.”   
  
“I do. I do know.” 

➵✪

Bucky felt like his time at Clint’s place was likely coming to an end, but he didn’t want to admit it. The bedrooms were all drywalled and ready for paint, he had furniture that they wouldn’t be able to make ordered, the kitchen was functional, and there was new sod in the front lawn. The place looked great and Clint was happy and currently babbling about paint and themed rooms.

“Ok so you wanted more classy themed rooms and I have to admit you might be right. But hear me out, one gaudy sellout room?” Clint looked at Bucky expectantly from the other side of the card table that was currently their dining room set.

“Mmhm.” Bucky just nodded along with Clint. “Sounds good.”   
  
“And what if I make one room themed after the rise and fall of the Ottoman Empire.” 

“Mmhm. Sounds good.”   
  
Clint frowned. “Bucky.”   
  
“What?”   
  
“You’ve said the same thing for the last like 5 questions.”   
  
“And?” Bucky suddenly felt cagey and defensive. “Why does it matter?”   
  
“Well… It’s…” Clint faltered, suddenly looking at Bucky’s intense gaze and crossed arms. “It’s your place too?” He phrased it like a question.

Bucky blinked several times. “Is it?”   
  
“I mean.” Clint also looked confused now. “Yeah? You’ve put as much work into it, if not more. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s-It’s  _ ours. _ ”   
  
Bucky crumpled at that, his face awash with emotions that he had held internally for much too long. He stepped into Clint’s space and pulled him in for a hug. He knew that Clint was taller than him, but tucking his face against the broad shoulders and burrowing in felt so natural and safe. Clint’s arms tentatively came up to hold onto Bucky too.

“I guess-- I thought-” Bucky just squeezed Clint’s torso harder. “Thank you.”   
  
“It’s ok.” Clint pressed his face into Bucky’s hair. “You have a place here.” 

He didn’t really know why he pressed a kiss into Bucky’s hair, but he did. Bucky looked up at him, looking small and not assassin-like in Clint’s arms. His eyes searched Clint’s face, as if he was seeing it for the first time. 

“Buck?”   
  
Bucky just inhaled and closed his eyes, acting on impulse and emotion for the first time in a long time and slotted their lips together softly. Clint made a startled noise against his mouth, like this wasn’t the most obvious thing that had happened since fixing the shower. Like the lingering glances from both of them had gone unnoticed.

Bucky melted into the kiss, feeling Clint holding him close and keeping hot pressure with his lips. He wasn’t pushing, just steadily exploring Bucky’s mouth. Bucky caught up and stood on his tiptoes to deepen the kiss, pressing his tongue into Clint’s mouth and backing them against the unpainted drywall. He felt strong arms pull him impossibly closer and another tongue explore into the kiss. They finally broke apart and Clint leaned down to touch their foreheads together, both breathing a bit hard.

“Thank you” Bucky repeated through a few tears that escaped down his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is for the phil coulson square of winterhawk bingo and what i wanted to write when i started this whole shenanigans

They had eventually compromised on theme. Bucky got his tasteful, subtle Avengers themed rooms. Clint got one (1) horribly tacky room, and a lot of kisses while Bucky was telling him this compromise. Clint was absolutely a sucker.

They were putting in flowers in the empty flowerbeds when an unmarked car with dark tinted windows pulled up, screaming ‘undercover’ as loudly as possible. Clint stood up, putting himself between the car and Bucky and tensing up, until Phil emerged from the driver’s seat in his suited and aviatored glory. 

“Coulson!” Clint said in a breath of relief. “Welcome to our humble abode.”

“Nice to see ya, Barton. Don’t think a mansion can be called ‘humble’.” Phil pulled Clint in for a hug. He peeked behind Clint to see Bucky still holding a trowel threateningly. “Hi there Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky lowered his gardening tool. “It’s Bucky.”   
  
“Please… Don’t ask him to sign your trading cards.” Clint hissed at Coulson in a whisper before talking at full volume again. “You can be our first unofficial customer! And I have  _ just _ the room for you.”   
  


Clint led Coulson up the stairs to a modestly sized bedroom painted dark blue with a red accent wall. There was a stuffed bald eagle from the local taxidermist and a copy of Washington crossing the Delaware. Vintage Captain America posters were hung on the walls. Phil looked sideways and saw Clint and Bucky’s matching shit-eating grins.

“The alarm’s set to only ever play ‘star-spangled man with a plan’ for wakeup calls” Clint said gleefully.   
  
“Do I even want to see the rest of the rooms?” Phil set his briefcase down on the bed anyway.

Phil followed them through Thor’s dark grey room with lightning-themed accents and furs on the bed, Nat’s room with a luxurious red damask wallpaper, Banner’s green and purple striped room with scientifically based decor, and Tony’s gold and red obnoxiously patterned room. Phil laughed and ooh-ed and ahh-ed appropriately and commented on their handiwork, making both men bristle with pride.

“Where’s your room, Hawkeye?”   
  
“Our room’s upstairs, with the rest of the unfinished rooms.” Clint said, pulling Bucky into him. “We’re gonna do some more themed ones, but we figured we’d start with the Original 6. Oh I haven’t showed you the best room!”

Bucky groaned as Clint bounded down the hall. “This was a compromising point.” He whispered to Phil, who looked a bit awed that one of his childhood heroes was sharing a secret with him. It was like Cap all over again.

Clint opened a final door to the outrageous Avengers wallpaper and novelty bedding, action posters of all six of the original Avengers plastered on the walls, and light fixtures like all of their weapons. 

“Ta daaaa” Clint gestured proudly. 

“It’s…..” Phil trailed off.

“It’s awful, but I love you so.” Bucky said from the door jam. 

He froze, and Clint froze up too. If Phil noticed, he chose not to say anything. They hadn’t yet said “I love you” but Bucky had just let it slip. Truthfully they hadn’t really defined what their relationship was. 

“Hey Phil.” Clint said, still looking at Bucky with an unreadable expression. “We’re gonna go get a few things from the store, you wanna come with?”   
  
“No, I’ll stay here and settle in.” Phil responded with a smile. 

➵✪

Bucky was silent as they were driving to the hardware store, his mind racing a million miles an hour.

“I love you too, you know.” Clint said cautiously.

Bucky turned to him with wide eyes. “You do?”   
  
“Yeah Buck, I do.” Clint chuckled and extended his hand for Bucky to hold onto with his metal one. “I’m driving to get fuckin’ chickens for my amazing boyfriend because I’m fuckin’ whipped to hell how much I love him.”

“This guy’s quite lucky.” Bucky teased, feeling himself blush. “I’m glad you’re my fella, sweetheart.”

“I like you calling me that”   
  
“Sweetheart?” Bucky was blushing proper now.

“No, your fella.” Clint smiled at him. “It makes me feel all old-timey and sappy.”

“I am old timey and sappy.” Bucky said earnestly.

“I know babe.” Clint parked the car and kissed him. “Let’s go get you some chickens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should i write an epilogue??? or just leave it here???? i haven't decided yet, lemme know


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here's a little epiilogue written in a style i don't really usually explore so hope yall like it
> 
> thanks for all the comments and kudos on this fic!!! i'm glad yall like it as much as i do
> 
> as always BDBD thanks for sprints and yall can find me on twitter @_AMAMOT

**Keeping up with Barnes and Barton**

_Exclusive piece for Good Housekeeping by Alyx Blotsky_

I arrived at the Burlington early in the morning and drove a short ways to Woodstock, Vermont. Now this may seem like the quintessential small town, because it is. And ever small town needs a fabulously gay couple with their cute bed and breakfast, right?

But how many small towns can say that their local bed and breakfast is owned and operated by superheros? If you follow the Avengers at all, you may recall from a press conference that Hawkeye had officially retired as part of his agreement after the Sokovia Accords. And that The Winter Soldier had been absolved. Both men have a track record of being both dangerous and extremely capable.

But I wasn’t scared or concerned walking up to the Victorian Mansion painted a cheerful color of purple. There was a hand-carved sign that read “The Barton Barne” and a neatly painted fence around the large yard. The flowerbeds were overflowing and I could hear the clucking of Chickens from somewhere nearby. I walked up the steps and an honest-to-god pygmy goat bleated and emerged from the shrub next to the porch.

Bucky Barnes opened the door, looking casual and relaxed in jeans and a hoodie. He greeted me with a hug and told me to not let the goat sneak into the house. The man before me was not the gaunt and brainwashed assassin from the SHEILD-released photos; I was getting glimpses of the Barnes that appears in newsreels. He’s also shorter than you’d think. His Brooklyn drawl comes out with certain words and his age shows occasionally with his “ma’am” (despite refusing to be called Sergeant Barnes) and the swing music trickling from an antique record player. He tells me that Barton had to run into town to get chicken wire for an emergency repair, and I’ll get the full tour when he gets back. We sit down at the sturdy farmhouse table and he offers some local pressed cider.

His head throws back with laughter when I ask about the chickens. “Clint told me when we were remodelin’ the place that I could get some. There were these lil’ chicks at the hardware store one day.”

“And the goats?”

Bucky just shrugged. “My fella’s a sucker.”

As if on cue, Clint Barton comes stomping in through the back door off the kitchen. He’s grumbling under his breath and Bucky is just watching fondly. Barton looks up and sees me, as if just remembering that they were expecting company. He shakes my hand and gives Bucky a kiss on the cheek. He asks if I want the full tour and we start off into the rest of the mansion.

The rooms are hilariously themed after the original Avengers, my personal favorite being the Hulk’s purple and green with scientific touches. Seriously, the rooms are great. And Barton tells me they’re going to theme the rest of the unfinished rooms after the newer Avengers. The truly massive house still feels cozy and homey and spills out into their backyard where there is a veranda and another long table. A charcoal grill sits on the patio and the much-talked about chickens are contained in a hand-painted coop. I felt a bump against my leg and looked down to see another pygmy goat gently headbutting me. Bucky looked embarrassed and started herding up the goats to go into a little shed towards the back of the property.

So there I was, laughing at The Winter Soldier with Hawkeye as the former chased goats across their backyard. I asked Clint how they were getting on with the business of the bed and breakfast.

“Oh you know. Weekenders comin’ through and some retired folks who are pretty regular visitors.” He smiled at Bucky fondly. “ We get a fair amount of people who think we’re gonna be like larger-than-life characters and I think some of them are disappointed when we’re just regular guys.”

Bucky wedged himself under Clints arms and rested his head on his chest. “Just guys bein’ pals.”

“Bros bein’ dudes.”


End file.
